Exponent II's Blog, page 265

Welcome to the Sinners’ Club

    Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight: for by the law is the knowledge of sin… For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus: (Romans 3:20,23-24)

 

This week I picked up a children’s book called “The Not Even Once Club”  by Wendy Watson Nelson at the library. The main character is a boy named Tyler, who has just moved to a new area. He is meeting up with children from his primary class in hopes of joining their secret club. When he climbs up to the treehouse he is excited about all the games, art supplies, treats, and candies (supplied by the primary teacher as long as they all keep the promise). The other children say he has to pass a test and make an oath to join the club–that he will never sin, not even once. So he does. On his way home he sees cigarettes in the road and tosses them in the trash. End of story.

 

Wow, I hope I am not the only one concerned about this plotline. The secret club with an oath and test of membership may not be as disturbing to some as it is to me. I felt a bit traumatized by my temple experience, and this seems to be an allusion to that. Then, there is the bribery, in the form of treats and games appealing to young children. They will only get to do those fun things if they make the oath. And the oath itself is extremely heavy for a young child. In fact, it is an impossible oath for anyone, much less a child. So this kind of story induces an inordinate amount of shame and guilt for human mistakes. I am also particularly concerned at what a strong in-group–out-group dynamic this sets up. It encourages judgement of the ‘out group’- anyone who doesn’t conform to the perfect standard. If you don’t promise and succeed at all these things, you are in the out-group. There is no way back in, because this is ‘NOT EVEN ONCE’. The allegory completely leaves out the Savior, the most important part of the plan of salvation. A Savior who sought out and embraced marginalized peoples, especially sinners. The story ignores the fact that we learn more from our failures than our successes in life. Unfortunately, this children’s book author is not the only one whose teachings are missing a pivotal point of the gospel.

 

Last Saturday in Las Vegas, President Nelson, said, “your ultimate safety in this life lies in never taking the first enticing step toward going where you should not go and doing what you should not do.” To me, this sounds eerily like the same message – that we can somehow avoid sin and earn our salvation through exact obedience to church leaders.

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I’m concerned at the implication that we can do anything to protect ourselves or save ourselves from sin. That idea completely misses the point. Mormon doctrine teaches that we were sent to earth to gain experience, whereby we can distinguish between good and evil. The story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden demonstrates this paradox -the commandment to not partake of the fruit and the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth. Both could not be followed. They had to determine for themselves which was the better choice. Eve desired knowledge and motherhood and in wisdom partook of the fruit, knowingly transgressing a commandment. Because the point of life is to seek the highest good for ourselves and others. We cannot avoid sin. We can learn from it. Most choices in life are not black and white, good and bad, but instead a matter of studying, exploring, weighing out options, and creatively trying to come up with better solutions.

 

Jesus told a parable of 2 brothers. One sought his inheritance early, a preposterous notion. Even more preposterous, the father in the story gives it to him. Then this son runs off and wastes it in riotous living. The other son stays perfectly obedient to the father. He works extra hard in the field. When the first son comes to himself and realizes that even servants in his father’s house have it better than him, he penitently returns, hoping only for a place as a servant. Then, most surprisingly of all, the father welcomes him as a beloved son. They are reconciled. The father throws a feast to celebrate. The second son, coming in from his extensive labor in the field is angry. He never got a party. He also hasn’t come to know his father. He doesn’t realize that all the work in the field was not going to earn him the love of his father. His father already loved him, and wanted him to come in from the field all along, everything the father had was already his. The abundance showed by the father – love, compassion, forgiveness, and generosity, is NOT earned. It can’t be. Our safety is not in never taking a step through sin, but in coming to our father and letting him wash our feet. In accepting the grace and love he offers as a free gift. We should try our best to follow Christ’s example, but we will inevitably go a lot of places we should not go and do some things we should not do in life; perhaps something like judging a wayward brother and envying his ‘fatted calf’. The important thing is that we ultimately come home, and accept the gift.

Guest Post: Women of the Book of Mormon in Art

[image error]by Brittany Long Olsen

Growing up, I craved more stories of women in the scriptures. When I entered Young Women’s, it broke my heart to see how few women were mentioned in the Book of Mormon, a book I treasured as central to my faith. How was I supposed to grow closer to God reading the scriptures with a bunch of male soldiers as my role models?

The stories of women in the Book of Mormon provide such a sweet contrast to the many, many stories about brash men tearing society apart by war. These women are strong in their faith, fiercely loyal to their families, and humble in leading good lives. Over the years, they have provided inspiration without me even knowing some of their names. I admire them for their strength, for being powerful voices and examples of faith in a book that all but pushes them to the background.

[image error]Two years ago, I wanted to depict these women in art, and what began as a doodle in church became a series that allowed me to ponder their lives and stories more deeply. This year, I’ve been thinking a lot about them again. How did they stay strong in a culture that may have marginalized them? How did they endure such hardship without losing faith?

I hope other women—and men—can be as inspired by their precious few stories as I have been.

Brittany Long Olsen is a cartoonist, illustrator, and mom of a spunky little dog named Jetpack.

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The Power of Discerning

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I want to start out by saying that what follows is my own experience. I am not saying that everyone should go the same path I have gone. I am not saying that my conclusions are the only right ones. This is just what my experiences and my relationship with God have led me to.

I have mostly come out the other side of a faith crisis that started about 5 years ago. Recently I have been thinking about how that looks in my life now. What is the role of faith going to be for me now? What about religion broadly and the LDS church specifically? How have I changed, and how does that impact my day-to-day life? One thing I know for certain is that I have had a lot of experiences over the last 5 years that have left me a better, more open person.

Here are the top 10 things I would have missed out on without having gone through a faith crisis:

My non-member husband – he is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the best person I know. He has taught me so much. (Cue sappy rom com score here.) I believe God put us in the right time at the right place to be together. What would have happened if I had still been rigidly dating only priesthood holding church members?
London fogs – This is the best beverage in the history of beverages. It’s an early grey tea latte and it is delicious.
The Shape of Water – This movie is visually beautiful, and has a beautiful message about acceptance and love and what it means to be a human and what it means to be a monster. It is also rated R. I used to not watch any rated R movies ever. There are other movies and TV shows that have made me think or challenged my worldview or taught me important lessons that I never would have watched.
Graduate school…probably – This one gets a probably because I’ve always valued my education a lot. But I do not think pre-crisis Jess would have been as open to the possibility that God wants me to have a career. I don’t know that I would have been quite so dedicated to my professional development.
Episcopal church services – And not just the Anglicans…I really enjoy learning about and attending new churches. There is truth everywhere, and different truths are more obvious in different contexts. Going to Catholic Mass has opened my eyes to how vast God is. The simple, straightforwardness of the Quaker approach has helped me tune my ears to hear the still small voice more clearly.
Tarot – I’ve started learning how to read tarot cards for myself as a self-improvement tool. Taking the time to pull cards and reflect on their symbolism and lessons has given me a lot of insight in to myself.
Wu Tang Clan – and other great music. Wu Tang specifically has helped me, as crazy as it might sound, realize my privilege as a white person in America and increased my empathy for the struggle of minorities. I have also heard a lot of great music played at bars and other venues where I used to believe the spirit would not go. Now I know that God uses any and all the mouthpieces he can get, whether that’s a prophet in general conference, or a musician sharing their heart in a bar.
Therapy – I was afraid of therapy for a long time, and I thought that if I was faithful enough, Jesus and the atonement would heal me, mind and body. I still believe that the atonement and a personal relationship with Christ are good for the spirit. However, I also believe that God inspires psychologists and therapists and clinical social workers and psychiatrists and all kinds of mental health professionals. He inspires them to understand their clients, and He inspires them with words of healing and helping.
The joy of doing hot yoga in a tank top instead of a t-shirt – My new definition of modesty is much broader; what I wear is now the smallest part of it. The only rule I have for what I wear is to make sure that my clothing is appropriate for the activity at hand. As someone who enjoys hot yoga and for years struggled through class in heavy t-shirts and long pants, I cannot tell you the relief of having arms and legs free, able to breathe and stretch without inhibition.
Shirley Temple (the drink) – Sprite with grenadine (cherry syrup) is the drink of the designated driver. Only after my faith crisis would I go out to bars and pubs with my non-member friends. I still don’t drink, but I will socialize with people while they drink now. And it is not a big deal. I get delicious, often free, beverages and my friends get home safely.

Joseph Smith famously said that he taught his people correct principles and then let them govern themselves. It seems to me that we have lost some of that spirit in the Mormonism. We get more and more concerned with sleeve and short length, what activities are allowed on Sundays, and whether or not Diet Coke is an acceptable thirst-quencher (of course the answer to that last one is YES!!). My heart is telling me that we need to get back to living by principles, rather than rules.

It, oddly enough, reminds me of Adam and Eve in the garden. God gave them two rules. They couldn’t keep both. More importantly, one of the rules, had it been kept rigidly, would have prevented them from having experiences that they needed to have. I have always been puzzled as to why God would set them up to fail like this. I’ve come to believe that He didn’t in fact. He wanted them to use their own minds. He wanted them to discern which was the greater good, and which principle was going to get them where they needed to go. It can be the same for us. Sometimes in life we are going to have to choose. If we are guided by principles a choice that under the rules seems impossible becomes manageable, even if it is still difficult.

Another benefit that I have noticed for myself is that the more I flex my discernment muscles, the closer I have to be to God. When things are less black and white, I have to rely on my ability to discern His will, rather than relying solely on what others say I should do. I have made mistakes for sure, some of them fairly significant. But I have learned and it has brought me closer to my Father and to my own intuition.

As I said, my point here is not to judge your choices or condescendingly wave my choices around as the only correct ones. I am also not saying that we should all go out and break all the rules all the time. (I am actually a compulsive rule-keeper by nature…it’s been a long journey, friends.) My point is that God gave us agency and discernment. Maybe your heart and soul are genuinely telling you that Mormonism is your place, and that you should carefully avoid R rated movies. Awesome. I hope that you learn something valuable from that choice, maybe about sacrifice and self control. Maybe your heart and soul are genuinely telling you that Mormonism is not the right place for you (maybe for right now or maybe forever), and that you should explore Eastern religions. Cool. I hope that you, too, learn something valuable from that choice, maybe about detachment or the four noble truths. When we exercise the ability to discern it can enrich our lives in the most beautiful and unexpected ways.

 

Reading Scripture After a Faith Transition: The Transfiguration

 

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Mosaic of the Transfiguration, Saint Catherine’s Monastery, Mount Sinai.

I gave this sermon at the Las Vegas Community of Christ congregation on February 11, 2018.

I have spent a good share of my life immersed in scripture. For most of my teenage and adult years, it was my main devotional practice. Reading scripture was comforting and I felt God with me as I read. I felt like reading scripture gave me so much insight into my life and problems, whether it was from the text itself, or from the openness to God that I tried to cultivate during that devotional time, or just with a bit of distance from whatever was bothering me. Growing through different stages of life, I felt that my understanding of the texts changed and that felt good too. But I was about 32 when it all came crashing down on me. I was at the beginning of a big faith transition that would last for several years and end with me leaving the LDS Church and starting a new Community of Christ congregation with several other people and eventually becoming confirmed in my new spiritual home.

I had been used to reading scripture very quickly and reading for about an hour a day. After several years of reading the whole LDS canon each year, I decided to change my approach and read slowly and deliberately and blog my way through the Book of Mormon, chapter by chapter. It was a text I was very familiar with, as I estimated that I was on my 23rd read of it. I wasn’t very far in before I had to stop entirely. I was used to quickly reading through the bits that made me feel uncomfortable. Reading and blogging each chapter slowly forced me to encounter the text in a way that I wasn’t prepared for. Ultimately, I had to stop, as reading this way was destroying my faith. Next month, it will have been five years since I stopped reading scripture regularly, though I keep hoping that someday I will be able to pick it back up again as a daily practice.

For now, though, reading most scripture starts with all of my inner alarm bells and red flags going off and I go into a little panic each time, though reading scripture with my congregation is helping with this. I want to explain about this a bit more, but first I want to read the passage of scripture that is our focus today.

Our text today is from Mark 9:2-9. Bible scholar Elizabeth Struthers Malbon noted that Mark was the earliest of the gospels and that it would likely have been performed by a dramatic reader all in one sitting to a group of listeners. In the first century, only about 10% of people were literate, so these dramatic retellings were a key part of telling the gospel story. I’m just reading Mark 9:2-9 from the NRSV, but I like to imagine the intensity and drama of those first century readings.

2 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3 and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one[a] on earth could bleach them. 4 And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5 Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings,[b] one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6 He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7 Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved;[c] listen to him!” 8 Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

9 As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

To help us understand today’s reading, I would like to offer up a method of reading scripture that I’ve been working out since my faith transition. I have to credit the hosts of the Harry Potter and the Sacred Text podcast, my pastor Emily, and my friends Jeremy, Chelsea, and Melody with teaching me how to learn to read scripture again. They have helped me get unstuck where I have been so very stuck.  

The frame that I want to use to understand the Transfiguration text addresses the ways in which experiencing a faith transition can impact our ability to read and interpret scripture. I don’t want to claim that my experiences are universal, but I have learned a few good things about getting unstuck. So I’m asking you to consider two different ways to read: one that I will describe as “constraint” and one of “liberation.”

When I read scripture, it is hard to forget the ways in which scripture has been interpreted in my life. I absorbed a lot of literalistic interpretation of scripture. I would get a lesson at church, then a few years later I was likely to get the same lesson, and eventually there was just a lot of repeating the same kind of interpretation over and over again. When I read scripture now, my mind immediately defaults to that scriptural baggage that I carry with me, even though I wish that I could get rid of it. That baggage is big part of the constrained reading.

Constrained readings often focus on dogma and use scripture to reinforce a particular set of beliefs instead of using scripture to explore the message of Jesus and connection to God. Constrained readings use heaven and hell to motivate the reader to be obedient. A constrained approach to scripture often means that a passage has one important meaning, instead of many possible meanings. One of the biggest problems with constrained reading is that we can be trained to default to the interpretations we have inherited, instead of being able to hear God’s words anew and what God would have us hear in that moment.

So when I read the scripture that Darren had assigned, all of my constrained reading alarms went off. I imagined a mystical transfiguration of Jesus into a glowing divine manly God and I just don’t know what to do with that imagery any more. For me it feels like heavy baggage instead of good news. Peter, James, and John beheld the miraculous sight, were terrified and heard God the Father declare Jesus as beloved. My previous encounters with constrained readings is pulling me toward thinking that I should see this miraculous event as evidence of Jesus’ divine status, glowing proof of godhood. After my faith transition, this doesn’t sit well. This reading was reinforced in series of Sunday school lessons and it got to where I couldn’t read this passage in any other way. Reading the text triggered a particular interpretation, and it has been difficult to break out of those old readings. I felt that I am in tension with those constrained readings, which weren’t serving a good purpose in my life, but I didn’t know how to break out of that pattern of reading. And that is a place I’ve been stuck for about five years.

For me, the solution has been to frame new readings as liberation. Liberation readings break out of those ingrained patterns and free the reader to find new interpretations of the text that align with faith after transition. Liberation readings get away from ideas of heaven, hell, and obedience to find out what scripture has to say about the message of Jesus and connection to God. Liberation reading pushes us to break those old patterns and find new interpretations of the text. Liberation readings are about exploring meaning and its many layers. This kind of reading is grounded in the idea that the message of Jesus is ultimately a message of liberation, of freedom, and that Jesus’ inclination to upend tradition creates a new space for freedom of thought and practice and to explore connection.

And now, after acknowledging the constrained reading, I want to return to the text and ask “What does the text say about liberation?” Or even “where is this message of liberation being communicated?” As I was reading this passage and thinking about these questions, I wasn’t much interested in the transfigured Jesus anymore, but in the words that God says afterwards: “This is my Son, the beloved, listen to him!” In the past, these words meant that God was introducing Jesus as God’s one and only Beloved, God’s much loved son. It seemed as though God has this special love for Jesus, but only a limited amount of that special love. The rest of us just get a more generic form of God’s love.

These days, I’m less inclined to read this as further evidence of Jesus’ divinity and more likely to see that God was showing Peter, James, and John that God was claiming Jesus. And this Jesus was a homeless activist with radical compassion, who didn’t bother to follow social norms, and whose mother got pregnant before she was married, and no one knew who the father was, and who came from a forsaken place. Jesus was all of these things and God claimed him and this was surprising and even terrifying for the men who witnessed it. It broke all of their ideas about who God claims and why God claims them. God saw this outcast and rebel and spoke aloud and pronounced him Beloved.

The new reading feels liberating to me because I have been able to work my way out of the rut, to find a new meaning in the text, and to explore. The idea that God’s claiming of Jesus isn’t specific to Jesus, but is reflective of the way in which God claims all of us, regardless of social status. It’s not just Jesus who is the Beloved, but you are and I am too. That feels powerful. It seems like the text isn’t just claiming that God loves each of us in a generic way, but that there is something precious and sacred in that relationship. And it isn’t just precious and sacred to me or to you, but it is also precious and sacred to God.

And so I have acknowledged the constrained reading and found a new liberation reading that works for my present stage of faith. I think for this to all work out, though, I want to add another step to this process. I have learned from the Harry Potter and the Sacred Text podcast that one meaningful step of the sacred reading process is to ask ourselves “What is the text inviting me to do?”

Our theme for today’s service is “Listen to the Voice of God” and that is what this passage of scripture calls me to do. When God tells me that someone is beloved, I should listen to that and listen to what the beloved person is saying. I feel like God has helped me see the belovedness of others. I’ve learned that God is really interested in revealing the belovedness of those who sit outside of the mainstream, of confirming their worth.

There is Fatima, a Muslim women who converted to Mormonism turned Baptist minister who I heard preach about race in the Book of Mormon a few years ago and it was like nothing I had ever heard before: powerful and asking the audience to consider new questions on an old text. And God whispered to me “She is my beloved, listen to her.”

And when I was listening to Augustus, a young trans man going through a faith transition and experiencing rejection from his family because of his identity, God said “He is my beloved, listen to him.”

And when I was listening to Kelly, a deaf woman and a single mom to teenagers, tell me that her goal was to make more than minimum wage to improve the quality of life for her family, God said “She is my beloved, listen to her” and I told God that I already knew that one.

But there are others in my life that are harder for me to see as God’s beloveds, where the belovedness takes longer for me to see. On the first day of class, Nathan glared at me from the back of the classroom and often made obnoxious comments. He was a veteran whose words were always harsh. He didn’t want to be there and he wasn’t going to make this easy on anyone. But when we did group work, he was always a real help to another student who lacked confidence in herself. I could see that to her, Nathan was a valued classmate and another person on the journey of finishing a college degree after rough life experiences. And God said to me “Nathan is my beloved, listen to him.” He is still in my class and his comments are often offensive and argumentative, but I know that he is beloved.

Scripture tells us that God speaks through those at the edges of society and in our scripture today, God tells us that those people are beloved and that our job is to listen to them. The powerful get a lot of airtime, but the words of God come from the mouths of those who we may see as dubious. I would like to close with a prayer.

Dear God,

We seek to know you

And feel your presence with us.

In our choices and actions,

May we be drawn toward the work of justice and peace

For as long as we sojourn in this life.

Bless us with moral courage,

And lead us into integrity and authenticity.

Help us to hold ourselves and our communities

Accountable for our words and actions,

And consider the policies, procedures, and laws we support.

Guide us to grace for ourselves and each other

That we may always use the privileges we hold

To the benefit of those without.

Move us to build communities founded on

Mutual respect, inclusion, and equity.

Help us to grow into better ways

Of knowing and doing and moving through this life.

Help us to hear the words of your beloved in our lives.

Be with us, O God

And help us to live out your peace.

Amen.

 

Congratulations to Exponent’s Wheatie Award winners! Here are links to all of our winners.

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Congratulations to Wheaties award-winners from the Exponent:

Best Contribution to Interfaith Dialogue: the Religious Feminism Podcast by April Young Bennett

Best Book/Article/Movie Review:  A second atonement: Mother’s Milk and healing a theological crack in Mormonism’s heart by guest Elizabeth Pinborough (This review covers the book, Mother’s Milk, by Exponent blogger Rachel Hunt Steenblik.)

Best Spiritual Post: Finding God Again, and Again… by Emily U

Best Current Events Post: The Errand of Angels: A Response to Sister Dalton’s YSA Address by Becca

Best Personal Post: Don’t Tell Me I Don’t Understand the Priesthood by Em

Best Mormon Facebook Community or Discussion Forum: Exponent II Facebook Group (for the second consecutive year!)

 

See the complete list of winners here.

Guest Post: Bishops Need To Be Better; But So Do We

[image error]by Lesley Ann

Maya Angelou said, “When you know better, you do better.”

I sat in front of my bishop, sobbing after sharing my secret. Cautiously, I poured out details of daily verbal assault, physical intimidation, financial control, and sexual endangerment by my spouse. I felt relieved, but it did not last. My bishop was someone I trusted and needed. He looked at me and said, “I don’t believe you.” The traumatizing blow that words can bring became unforgettably clear to me in that moment. My worst nightmare was unfolding in slow motion. The realization hit me like a wave of nausea coupled with a heart-stopping moment of shock: the implications of his opinion will escalate these things. I needed to be prepared for that when I got home. What about my children? Will they have to continue to see this? How can I get help? If my bishop doesn’t believe me, who will? He was someone I counted on to be God’s hands on Earth. A judge in Israel. A representative of Christ. And he said to me, “I don’t believe you.”

On the heels of the Rob Porter scandal that has sparked the ever unfolding #MormonMeToo movement; we must rise to the call. We must believe, comfort, aide, and assist survivors of domestic violence and those in situations of abuse. We have been made aware that many of our own ecclesiastical leaders routinely re-victimize victims, minimize harmful behaviors, rationalize power and control imbalances, and even justify abuse. We must see that something is wrong. All too often, we ask “Why would a bishop say that?” and “Why would he hit his wife?” Instead, we need to ask “What can we do to help the victim?” and “How can I be a safe person for a survivor?”

We must start to educate ourselves. Each and every one of us needs to be informed. Did you know there are several types of abuse? Abuse can include: physical, verbal, financial, psychological, cultural, emotional, mental, spiritual, relational, sexual, and economic. Do you know what defines each of these types of abuse? Did you know that many abusers can be charming, successful, well-respected, and highly regarded? This is the paradigm that enables to the abuse to continue in private. Did you know that abuse often starts off small, and then escalates over time? This is how women become virtually unaware they are in an abusive relationship. Did you know the cycle abuse consists of tension building, abusive explosion, and remorse/forgiveness? This is what keeps women in abusive relationships.

If we had just ONE lesson on abuse in our repertoire of temple marriage, chastity, modesty, following the prophets, and supporting our husbands’ priesthood authority, the difference we could make. The conversation would begin. The shame would cease. With just one lesson, we could inform ourselves and others. We could establish healthier patterns. We could discourage enabling and concealment of abuse. We could help even one. With just ONE.

I knew things would escalate. And they did.

I hold my bishop very accountable for NOT holding my ex-husband accountable.

And….

For telling me I was not being honest.

For telling me to go home and be a better wife.

For telling me it is normal to be called horrific names by my husband.

For telling me that I was the problem.

For telling me my feelings of fear were not real.

For telling me I was too controlling.

For telling me that I was just trying to get my husband in trouble.

For telling me that I must have done something to deserve this.

For telling me to stop being selfish for having aspirations to further my education.

For telling me I was failing in my job as a mother.

For telling me I needed to focus on my husband.

For telling me this behavior is normal in marriages.

For telling me everyone loves my husband.

For telling me that I just needed to get over it.

For telling me to stop making my husband mad.

For telling me that I just needed to trust my husband after he’s had multiple affairs.

For telling me that no one believes me and no one would believe me.

For telling me that I needed to be better.

I didn’t believe any of the things he said. Except one. The last one. I needed to be better. Yes, I believed that. And that is just what I did. I became informed, empowered, and honored my truth. I learned everything I could about abuse, power, and control. I left my husband who still denies everything. I weep with other survivors daily. I embrace my bravery and courage every single day. I look at my journey with humility and awe. I did this. I revived myself: from a shell of a person who lived in a constant state of fog to a vibrant, beautiful woman of grace and dignity. A woman who has a story to share. A woman who became better.

Yes, I became better.

We must all become better.

Community Support: Kindergarten-style

[image error]One summer day when I was 38 weeks pregnant, I went outside to turn on the sprinklers. I reached down to flip on the pump, feeling for the switch. With my view obscured by my giant belly, I didn’t see that a panel had blown off the night before and exposed the wiring.

As soon as I recovered from the electric shock, I grasped my belly. I felt nothing. My son was born later that day after an emergency induction. And thankfully, he was okay. At least, he seemed okay.

That was about five years ago. Since then, I have often wondered if I actually did harm him. I wondered when he became old enough to start talking, but didn’t, and when he didn’t potty train, and when he didn’t reach so many of his other developmental milestones. At age three, he was declared developmentally delayed and qualified for half-day preschool instruction through the school district, which we supplemented with another half-day at a private preschool. As he grew closer to Kindergarten age, my husband, a professional speech therapist, left his job to work from home where he could have more time to act as our son’s personal trainer. The summer before our son began Kindergarten, we sent him to summer school at the same school where he would attend Kindergarten, instructed by the teacher who would be teaching his Kindergarten class. When Kindergarten began, she assigned him to the exact same chair and coat hook that he had during the summer, to ease his transition.

In spite of all of our preparation, Kindergarten got off to a rocky start. My usually sweet-tempered child manifested his academic frustration with frequent temper tantrums in the classroom. I felt guilty about the way he was disrupting the Kindergarten experience for all the other kids and nervous that they would shun him. He certainly wasn’t being likeable.

A few weeks into the school year, the teacher asked if we had any ideas for a reward system. Was there anything that had worked at home? We started sending her a supply of Kit Kats. A friend with a special needs child had recommended Kit Kats to us previously when we were struggling with potty training; that particular candy seemed to have unique, magical motivational powers. But I wondered how the teacher would sneak Kit Kats to my son without the other students noticing and getting angry because my kid was getting bribed just for behaving as well as they were expected to as a matter of course.

His Kindergarten class has an elaborate color-coded behavior grading system. Good behavior is noted with a blue dot on a daily log that comes home in his backpack. A few weeks into the start of Kindergarten, I had seen a rainbow of colors—very seldom blue—and way too many notes from the teacher.

One day, I came home from work and found my son waiting for me at the door.

“I on black!” he cried, the moment he saw me. “I scream at friends! I not clip down!”

He seemed aghast. Over the past few weeks, it had become apparent that he couldn’t control himself like other Kindergarteners, but this was the first time I realized how much he wanted to.

“I sorry!” he continued. “Tomorrow I be on blue!”

He jumped into my arms and hugged me, apparently relieved to have gotten that off his chest.

Shortly after that, my husband and I called a meeting with our son’s teacher. We were hoping we could arrange to get an aid assigned to him, someone who could take him aside when needed and prevent him from disrupting the class and alienating himself from the other kids.

I didn’t expect what she said. Instead of sneaking the Kit Kats to my child, the teacher had been announcing his winnings with big fanfare every time he earned one, so that all of his classmates could cheer for him. Parents were asking her about my son, not because they were upset about his disruptions, but because their kids kept telling them about how excited they were whenever he won a reward.

A classmate who was accustomed to mentoring younger siblings had been assigned by the teacher to be my son’s buddy, and she described how this more mature five-year-old would gently remind him to stay on task. The other kids knew he was struggling and they also wanted to help.

“I wouldn’t say that he is a project for them, but more of a friend. Everyone wants to be his friend,” the teacher told us.

A few days later, my husband arrived at school early for pick-up and saw my son at recess. He came out late and put his nose to the wall, pouting because he had just finished a time-out for one of his temper tantrums.

A little girl noticed him and called his name. “Come play with us!” she said. He turned toward her, smiled, and joined his classmates on the playground.

Today, more often than not, my child proudly tells me, “I on blue! I get Kitty Kat!” Now that the tantrums have mostly ceased, he is starting to learn, albeit at his own, slower pace.

He is a friend to everyone.

Christian Women’s Prayerful Touch

A year or so ago, I was preparing for surgery on my hands. In the two years before this, I had three other hand surgeries, and all went well. But this was the big one—surgery on a finger that I had broken as a teen. This was mixed with severe tendinitis, and typical complications that come with middle age, over-usage (I love crocheting, sewing, cooking and typing) and lifelong diabetes. I was anxious. And not as confident as I would have liked.

 

At the time, I was going to a Christian Women’s Bible study in the small town where I lived. I was going because I loved the Christian community of women, and besides, there were no other Mormons in town. It was a remote community and our branch was 3 hour drive each way away.  I grew to love the Christian Women’s bible group and looked forward to the meetings with all of my heart.

 

At the end of each meeting, we discussed the needs of the women in the Christian community. Meals were assigned for new mothers and women who were sick, and we prayed for those dealing with cancer, illness, miscarriage, unemployment, death or other issues in their families. We prayed for each other, and shared our fears with each other so we could pray for ourselves as well.

 

It was few days before I was leaving for my surgery, and everyone knew I was having yet another hand surgery. “No crocheting for you!” they would joke—“Oh, and no phone!” and we would laugh, recognising all the little limitations that come with something as small as microscopic tendon surgery.

 

“Would you like us to offer a special prayer for you?” Asked the female Pastor, who I will call Glynis, and who I had grown to love. Her only uniform was her “Sunday best dress,” which was modest and humble, no robes, no hats or scarves. You’d never know that she was lay clergy based on her appearance- it was appeared more financially modest than the dresses on many Mormon women I know.  In my Mormon heart, I didn’t feel comfortable going to the non-denominational church on Sundays in lieu of home church. And yet, I felt a little ashamed of this—because the non-denominational Christian women’s bible study fed my soul so very much during the week and gave me inspiration to stay connected with God.

 

“Yes,” I said, anxiously. “I’m nervous about this surgery. I don’t know why. But this one feels…scarier.” I went on to explain that I had broken this finger as a teen, and had more issues with this hand than with the others. I explained that it was my second local anesthetic—which I liked because I had a much quicker recovery. But I was still nervous.

 

“Would you like us to lay hands on you?” Pastor Glynis asked.

 

I did not know what this meant, but after a lifetime in the Mormon church, I presumed maybe they would put their hands on my head—or kind of close to it. Or something. I wasn’t really worried.

 

“Yes.”

 

So the Christian women gathered around me. Then they lightly touched my shoulders, hands, and arms.[image error] Unlike the men’s hands on my head in Mormondom, these women became the blanket of warmth that Mormon women have described as the Holy Ghost. I was filled with the spirit. It was intense and spiritual in a way I had not experienced before.

 

There were no politics of who had authority, or were righteous enough to be in the circle. There was no discrimination—all in the room participated, and in this case, we were all women. Heads were bowed, and Pastor Glynis offered a prayer. She invoked no priesthood, claiming no right or title or power. She prayed, thanking God. Blessing every cell in my body. Blessing my spirit. Blessing that the healing would be fast and complete. Praying that my hands and body would work as they ought. The chorus of Amen was peaceful, humble, and filled with love.

 

I wept, feeling the Holy Spirit surround me through these good, righteous, Christian women.

 

And my surgery was fine. Wherever the odd moment of nervousness crept in, I remembered that prayer, and was comforted and strengthened. The same feeling of the spirit also joined me over the next few months as I recovered and did the exercises to get full mobility back in my digits.

 

We’ve since moved, and now live in a town with a ward that is walking distance from my house. So I now sit at Mormon Church, feeling a sterile kind of rote worship where no one ventures to colour outside of the lines, no one has witness to a different line a thought, and where the hands of men are officially the only vessels to bring the spirit of healing. In this, I’ve been unable to comprehend why Mormon women can’t/won’t/don’t “lay on hands” in a prayer for healing. Why Mormon women can’t be pastors. Why –in the recent Ward Conference—the Relief Society president offered the closing prayer to the men’s talks as her token symbol of female participation.

 

Mostly, I have yet to feel the spirit in the same way that I felt in the Christian Women’s Bible study group, and I miss it, dearly.  (I add that I have had a blessing from a Mormon woman via email once that invoked a very powerful spirit, possibly even more powerful that the bible study prayer– but it was yet “unofficial”. I will write about that another time.)

Book Review: The Infinite Future

Published by Penguin Random House, 2018.

Tim Wirkus’s book The Infinite Future, a novel is set in Utah, Brazil, Idaho, and outer space, may be the truest thing you read about Mormonism in 2018. At first, the book appears to be about three companions brought together by their obsession with a forgotten Brazilian science fiction author, Eduard Salgado-MacKenzie. Danny, the most prominent narrator, is a recent BYU graduate with no prospects and a bad case of writer’s block. In his efforts to find his way out of Provo (and his post-graduation slump) he finds himself in the unlikely company of Sergio, a Brazilian sub-librarian in São Paulo, and Harriet, an excommunicated Mormon scholar. Inspired by their love of Salgado-MacKenzie’s work, the three set off to uncover the truth about the mysterious author’s identity, and to discover whether his unpublished masterpiece—The Infinite Future—actually exists. The second part of the book is the unpublished manuscript itself, a sci-fi tale set in a distant future in a remote location in the outer reaches of space.

As with his first book, City of Brick and Shadow, The Infinite Future poses an irresistible mystery right from the start. Who is Salgado-MacKenzie? Why did he stop writing? What inspiration lies at the heart of his creative work? Can Salgado-MacKenzie’s alleged masterpiece (titled The Infinite Future in the story) improve upon his less-aspirational sci-fi stories? In The Infinite Future, as with his first book, Wirkus ultimately settles on a thesis about such questions. That is, the discovery of truth is often secondary to the search itself. In fact, the payoff of resolution hardly seems to matter when the reader becomes entangled with the book’s many questions.

If you’re like me, you’ll enjoy the neat comparison that arises between fiction (in this case, pulpy science fiction) and religion, an exercise that begs the question of whether something needs to be factually true for it to create meaning in our lives. The book also contends with existential imaginings of the afterlife. Indeed, this seems to be a major theme in The Infinite Future as well: is the prospect of eternal life (especially the Mormon version) more beautiful or terrifying for those of us still living?

Scattered throughout the book are some true narrative gems, particularly for Mormon feminists, many of whom will see themselves represented in Harriet, the excommunicated Mormon scholar. Wirkus’s description of her excommunication is equal parts heartbreaking and spot-on. As I read the story of her interactions with priesthood leadership, I saw myself sitting in my bishop’s office, listening to the same well-meaning lectures on intellectualism, feminism, and my own apparent lack of faith. These scenes will resonate with anyone who’s been bullied by their church leaders for speaking or writing openly about the church’s less-than-glossy history.

To me, it also felt important to see this story told from a woman’s perspective. This narrative choice will not be lost on Mormon women, many of whom find ourselves under deeper scrutiny than our priesthood-bearing counterparts. One case in point is Adam Miller’s recent BYU address. This is not to speak disparagingly of Miller’s message, indeed his words were well-chosen and deeply needed in our community. But it does reflect the disparity between how progressive-leaning men and women are treated in the church. While Miller was lauded as a trailblazer, women who have expressed similar views have been treated with contempt for decades. Wirkus’s account of Harriet’s excommunication will feel vindicating for many women who have found themselves on the wrong side of the bishop’s desk.

Another charming aspect of the novel is how often the book gives its microphone over to its many female characters. The chief protagonist in the fictional Salgado-MacKenzie’s work is a starship captain named Irena Sertôrian, a woman whose space-time exploits catapult her into legendary status. Her appearance in The Infinite Future, and the layered examination of her identity, motives, and character, give her a level of depth typically reserved only for complicated male characters. It was refreshing to see women included in the fictional religious canon of The Infinite Future, particularly as our actual canon is so lacking in female representation.

In truth, all the female characters in The Infinite Future are written well, even the minor ones. Wirkus includes multidimensional depictions in his writing as a matter of fact. The Infinite Future depicts a world where normal women exist, not as cheesed-out stereotypes of Strong Female Leads, but as actual people.

In the end, readers will relish in the chance to dance around sticky philosophical questions raised by The Infinite Future, and both men and women will enjoy seeing relatable representations of themselves on the page. Anyone who’s interested in untangling literary puzzles will have plenty to chew on, though these additions will not distract readers who just show up for the plot. The Infinite Future is richly layered, funny, and mind bending in its own right. Though the narrative structure of the book is somewhat unconventional, keen readers will appreciate its depth and craftsmanship, as well as its engrossing storyline. If you read one work of fiction this month, make it The Infinite Future.

Available in hardcover, ebook, and audio (the voice acting is phenomenal, so listen to it if you can).

Mormon Women Weigh in on the Controversial Australian “Safe Schools” Program

[image error]In order to expand anti-bullying practice, and in order to teach empathy and inclusion, with the bi-product of reducing suicide and suicidal thoughts for students who are LGBTI (or any family that might not fit a “traditional” definition), the Australian government funded Safe Schools Coalition Australia (SSCA). This Coalition developed the Student Wellbeing Hub for Australian Schools.

 

Specific to non-traditional families and LGBTI students, a portion of this new education platform included what is commonly called the “Safe Schools” program,  now titled “All of Us.” This educational platform is widely available to all (unlike other classroom curriculum that teachers develop yet “hide” from the public such as—grammar, algebra and biological mitosis) to see the meticulously created curriculum and study guides as developed by highly trained health, medical, psychological, and educational professionals.

 

A vocal Mormon woman declared the program as containing propaganda which would convince many students to explore homosexual relationships, and to label these homosexual relationship as superior to heterosexual relationships. She based this on claims that her son in Year/Grade 7 or 8 was exposed to much more information on vaginas than what she thought it was appropriate for him to learn (ever? at that age? I’m not sure). Her thinking was very much in line with the Australian Christian Lobby which is adamantly opposed to most types of sex education, but mixed with a twist of “The Family Proclamation” to help inspire the LDS community to don their white hoods and robes and join her in lynching the “Safe schools” programs. (Or at least this is what her marketing strategy sounded like to me).   This vocal Mormon woman gained a following of Mormons (maybe others?), including some fellow Mormon women—who have also vocally opposed the All of Us program (and, in my experience in asking, none of whom have actually read the “All of Us”/ Safe schools website- most by claiming it isn’t available for public consumption.)

 

Thankfully, another Mormon woman weighed in with an unselfish post that reflects a balanced response of the All of Us program—and she actually read the entire All of Us website, and watched it’s adjoining videos. Her thoughtful response it here: Safe Schools is Safe. (In case you were wondering, I really like her post!)

 

And in the end, please take a look at the All of Us program. It really is a sensitive step in helping all students to feel safe in their own skin, and safe at school.